The Secret Life of Lady Lucinda (13 page)

“My father was the Earl of Hampstead, British ambassador to the Ottoman Empire. He was a good man, William, and my mother…you would have loved her, I’m sure. She…” Words failed her. She choked back a sob.

“What happened, Lucy?” William looked ashen, as if he didn’t really desire an answer to the question he’d just posed.

She wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand. “I’ll never forget the fear in Mama’s eyes the last time I saw her. I didn’t understand it to begin with. I was so confused. Before I knew what was going on, we were running through our house in a desperate attempt to escape the men chasing us.” She took a deep breath to force away the painful tightening of her throat. “I was the only one who got away. My parents were both killed—my mother stabbed in the chest before my very eyes.”

William halted in his tracks, and she turned to face him. His eyes were stricken, mirroring the pain that she felt once more as it clutched at her insides. “You . . .” Speech seemed to fail him, and he closed his eyes against the awfulness of what she’d just told him before making another attempt. “You witnessed your mother’s murder?”

She couldn’t look at him without falling to pieces before his eyes, so she merely nodded in response. A heartbeat later, she felt his hand close around hers, felt herself being pulled back against him, his strong arms encircling her and cocooning her in his warmth. “I’m so very sorry,” he whispered.

His kindness sank below her skin where it touched her soul and squeezed her heart. A moment later the dam broke. She could do nothing to still her quaking shoulders or the cries of despair that were only slightly muffled against her husband’s chest. He drew her closer, kissed the top of her head, but said nothing more. He just held her until the tears had passed. How she’d been so fortunate to marry a man as kind as he was beyond her.

On a shaky sigh, she pulled away and looked up at him through red-rimmed eyes. “I’m sorry to have involved you in all of this, to have burdened you with this pain that I carry.” She took a quivering breath. “I’m sorry I lied.”

He stared at her for a long moment. “You silly woman,” he eventually said, drawing her against him once more and hugging her fiercely. “I’m honored to have won your trust. I only wish that you would have told me sooner. As for your true identity…” Lucy anxiously bit her bottom lip. “I must admit I’m happy to hear that you come from a good family, as sorry as I am for your loss. But just as I have promised to guard your secrets, you must swear to me that you will never deceive me again. Is that clear?”

Easing away from him a little, Lucy met his gaze. “On my mother’s soul.” She hesitated a moment before asking, “You do realize what this means, don’t you?”

He didn’t pretend not to, for he quickly nodded his response.

Unable to discern his thoughts, she quietly asked, “Do you wish for an annulment?”

He paused, as if considering all that she had told him, then tilted his head a little and smiled. “And ruin the chance for a perfect marriage?”

Lucy could scarcely believe her ears. “Perfect?”

His smile broadened. “Why yes. The way I see it, I am married to the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, a woman whose company I’m beginning to grow quite fond of, and on top of that, I’ve also been offered a rather grand adventure.”

“I…”

“Isn’t that the real reason for your keen interest in visiting Constantinople? To find the men who did this?”

She drew back a little in order to meet his eyes, a little stunned by his astuteness and somewhat chagrined that she hadn’t expected him to discern as much. After all, it was his skill at deduction that had led her to him in the first place. “Yes,” she told him firmly, “I mean to see justice served.”

William knew better than to argue. Any attempt he might make to stop her would only produce a greater rift between them, or, worse, she might do something stupid like run off, thinking herself capable of settling the matter alone. He couldn’t allow that happen. “Then let me help you as you intended for me to do.” After all, Trenton and Ryan had eventually supported their wives in their endeavors, as unconventional as they had been, and everything had worked out well for them.

A grateful smile of relief warmed her features. “Thank you, my lord, I…”

“Please don’t call me that again.” His tone was quite serious. “I hope that we’re familiar enough with each other now for you to call me William.”

Her smile widened. “William.”

The name rolled off her tongue with such tenderness that he practically felt his heart melt. Perhaps his father had been right after all. Lucy was precisely the right woman to grab his interest—and keep it. She was stronger than he’d thought, having kept her anger and pain tucked away for so long. And as it turned out she had her reasons for trapping him, reasons that were not only honorable but also commendable. It must have taken tremendous courage for her to do what she’d done. He couldn’t fault her for it—not any longer, not after everything she’d just told him.

Casting a wary eye in her direction, he recalled the kiss they’d shared a short while earlier. An annulment indeed! Even now that such a thing was possible, he’d fight it with every fiber of his being. He wanted her physically, but he also felt an overwhelming need to protect her for the rest of his life. The revelation shook him to his core. He could scarcely believe it himself, but there it was: he wanted his wife, body and soul, and could only dare hope that once all of this was behind them she might want him in the same way.

C
HAPTER
T
WELVE

“O
h do come and join us,” Miss Scott insisted as she patted the seat next to her. The four debutantes were sitting on the terrace enjoying what appeared to be a large jug of elderberry juice—a good thing, Lucy decided, since she really wasn’t all that fond of lemonade.

“Where are the others?” William asked as he looked about.

“Well,” Lady Hyacinth said, swatting away a determined fly. “Your sister suggested a shooting match, to which Lady Steepleton, Lord Trenton, and your brother all agreed, while Lord Stanton challenged Lord Fairfield to a game of chess, but I’ve no idea about the whereabouts of Lord Galensbury or Lord Reinhardt.”

“I see,” William muttered somewhat tersely.

Lucy hid a smile. Well, he
had
asked. “What about Lady Ridgewood, Lord Moorland, and the Lindhursts?”

“From what I understand,” Miss Scott remarked, “the Lindhursts decided to explore the library, while Lady Ridgewood and Lord Moorland…Well, I don’t suppose anyone’s seen either of them since breakfast. Not to worry though, I’m sure that wherever they are, they’ll be back in time for luncheon.”

Lucy managed a polite smile. She was happy to discover that her friend was enjoying Lord Moorland’s company, but she also worried that Constance might let something slip—a small detail that could lead to further deduction. Although William now knew the truth, she had no desire for anyone else to discover it just yet. Of course she trusted Constance implicitly, but all the same, Lucy would feel more comfortable if Constance didn’t spend quite so much time with her father-in-law.

“I think I’ll see how Stanton and Fairfield are getting on with their game,” William said. Turning to Lucy, he offered a heartfelt smile. “If you don’t mind, that is.”

Lucy would have been happy to join him. Following their walk together, she felt that they’d finally started getting onto the right track, and she longed to continue with their conversation, which, she hoped, signaled the beginning of a true friendship. However, it was also her duty as hostess to entertain her guests, and, truth be told, she really hadn’t spoken more than a few words with any of the young debutantes since their arrival. “Not at all,” she said, returning William’s smile. “I’ll see you again soon.”

Bowing, William lifted Lucy’s hand to his lips and placed a lingering kiss upon her knuckles. Her heart instantly skipped a beat, while each of the young ladies sighed and tilted their heads as if with longing. “If only I could form an attachment to a gentleman as handsome as Lord Summersby,” Lady Amanda mused as soon as William was out of earshot. “You truly are very lucky.”

“Yes, I do believe I am.” It was impossible for Lucy to contain her smile. She hastily went on to add, “You must agree though that both Lord Fairfield and Lord Stanton are rather striking.”

“Oh, they most assuredly are,” Miss Cleaver hastily agreed as she nodded her head. “And one mustn’t forget Lord Reinhardt. In fact…” She lowered her voice to a low whisper. “When I spoke to him yesterday, I was very much under the impression that, had we not been in the company of others, he might have attempted to kiss me—on the cheek of course.”

“Noooo…” Lady Hyacinth said, sounding quite astonished. “Really?”

“Oh, indeed,” Miss Cleaver assured her in a most serious tone. “Unfortunately, I haven’t been afforded the opportunity to explore the situation any further, though I do hope that one will present itself soon.”

“I’m sure that it will,” Lucy agreed, though she very much doubted that Miss Cleaver was correct in her assessment of the situation. As far as she knew, Reinhardt had very little intention of getting himself attached to anyone, so she couldn’t help but wonder if he might be seeking a dalliance and decided to say, “I do feel that I must caution you, however, for there are gentlemen who have a more rakish personality than most. I’m not saying that this is the case with Lord Reinhardt of course, for I hardly know the man, but I do think that it would be wise of you all to avoid being alone with any singular gentleman at any given time. One never can tell what might happen.” Heavens, she sounded like an old matron giving advice, when in fact she was no older than them. It really was quite absurd.

“That’s very sound advice,” Miss Scott said, reaching for a plate of cookies and offering it to Lady Amanda who in turn passed it on to Lucy. “Naturally, it would never occur to any of us to deliberately seek the private company of a bachelor. It would simply scream ruination. However, one does hear of such things happening, so, by all means, we shall take your advice to heart, Lady Summersby. Shan’t we ladies?”

“Oh, we shall,” Lady Hyacinth exclaimed. “Though I must admit that I personally wouldn’t mind a walk in the garden with Lord Fairfield. There’s a boyish charm to him that I find very enticing.”

“He’s not serious enough for me,” Miss Cleaver remarked. “I’d much rather set my cap for someone like Galensbury or Stanton. Both are exceedingly handsome and with that touch of enigma about them that makes you wonder whether they’re actually listening to what you’re saying or wondering what it might be like to kiss you.”

“Heavens,” uttered Lady Hyacinth. The other ladies gasped a mere second before they all erupted into a fit of giggles.

Lucy, of course, maintained her composure, wondering if she’d ever been as silly as these four women. She didn’t think so, but then again, she’d never put herself on display in the hopes of capturing a gentleman’s attention. Life had been too hard on her for that.

She had to wait another fifteen to twenty minutes or so before an appropriate gap in the conversation allowed her to take her leave. Luncheon was no more than half an hour away, and she’d decided that she wanted to change into another gown first—one that she hoped William would have no cause to take issue with.

Entering her bedroom, she immediately removed her shawl, laying it carefully on the bed before ringing for her maid. Walking across to her full-length mirror, she then regarded her own reflection, turning this way and that, until she’d decided that while her bosom did seem to swell against her bodice, William really had overreacted; it wasn’t nearly as low cut as some of the gowns she’d seen other ladies wear. However, she did want to please him, and if covering herself up a bit was what it would take, then so be it.

She was just about to cross to her wardrobe when something caught her attention; a small, purple box with a gold ribbon wrapped around it was sitting on her vanity table. She stared at it for a moment, then approached, a smile beginning to tug at her lips while her stomach tightened with anticipation. William must have brought the gift for her while she’d been sitting outside. A wave of warmth rushed through her. Surely this was a sign that their time together in the garden had meant as much to him as it had to her.

Picking up the box, she ran her fingers over the smooth surface, her heart quickening its pace as she wondered what it might contain. Her curiosity eventually got the best of her, and she quickly tugged on the ribbon and eased the lid open to gaze inside, only to stiffen, her breath caught in her throat. A cold shiver ran down her spine as she staggered across to the nearest chair and sank down onto it. Burning tears were already pressing against her eyes, and when she tried to calm herself with a deep breath, a shaky sob escaped her lips instead. With trembling fingers, she reached inside the box and gently removed the small, gold, heart pendant that had been her mother’s. It was impossible. It couldn’t be here, for it was the very same one that she’d worn the day she’d died.

Lucy wanted to scream and toss the box across the floor, but it wouldn’t do to draw that kind of attention, not until she figured out what was going on. Instead, she drew a ragged breath and wiped away the tears that threatened to overflow at any moment.

She was just about to set the box aside when she noticed that it wasn’t completely empty. There was something else inside—a piece of neatly folded paper with her name on it. Lucy froze. For a long moment, she simply sat and stared at it, wondering what it might say and too afraid to find out. But, she also knew that she’d have to read it eventually. There was only one person she could think of who could have sent this to her, and if this letter would bring her closer to discovering his identity, she really had no choice but to take courage.